


The Things We’ve Been Dying to Tell You

by Frejennix, Lalijinx



Series: The Other Side of the Mirror [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Light/Dark Sides Switch, Confused Thomas Sanders, Cooking Lessons, Executive Dysfunction, Fear of Adulting, Gen, Intrusive Thoughts, Joan (Character) - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Violence, Original Backstory for Canon Characters, Reckless Disregard for Safety, Sick Fic, Social Anxiety, Talyn (Character) - Freeform, nervous tics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frejennix/pseuds/Frejennix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalijinx/pseuds/Lalijinx
Summary: Thomas is still getting used to the idea of Sides in general.Meanwhile, his Core sides are more than eager to take advantage of this new two way street to spend more time with Thomas.(Episode 2, Arc 1)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders & The Sides
Series: The Other Side of the Mirror [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794676
Comments: 52
Kudos: 181





	1. Yellow

Thomas could tell, from the instant he woke up at four in the morning sweating bullets under his light blankets, that his day was going to _suck_.

He stumbled into the bathroom, grabbing an empty glass from his bedside table on the way. He filled and drained it twice, the lukewarm water feeling unreasonably good against his parched throat, although every desperate swallow made him wince in pain. 

And, ow, even _wincing_ was painful, as the simple act of squeezing his eyes shut made Thomas incredibly aware of the pounding pressure in his head.

He fumbled for the light switch, whimpering when the light seemed to infuriate his headache even more. Grasping blindly inside his medicine cabinet, he found a bottle of Tylenol, swallowing two pills with another glassful of water. 

At least he didn't have to be at work in a few hours, Thomas thought, dragging himself back to bed, kicking his blankets down to the end and settling under just the sheet. He could sleep in, hopefully…

Wait.

What day was today?

He reached for his phone, bracing himself before turning it on, and, yup, the light of his phone did, in fact, unlock the extra special level of pain behind his eyes, as he suspected it might. His eyes watering, he swiped until he found his calendar app.

Oh. Right. He had plans with Joan and Talyn today. 

Well…

He didn't have to meet them until mid morning. Maybe the Tylenol would help.

* * *

The Tylenol did _not_ help.

Thomas woke up to his earlier headache’s bigger, meaner cousin, which bizarrely seemed unhappy with its current living situation and was trying to dig its way to freedom through his eye sockets, except, y’know, his _eyes_ were in the way. He had a brief moment to wonder if his air conditioning was acting up before he started shivering, his muscles clenching up tight and sending aches through his whole body.

Sighing, Thomas got out of his bed. He had a couple of hours before he had to meet Joan and Talyn, and he would probably feel better after he had some food-

Oh, _no, never mind_. No, judging by how his whole stomach rebelled just then, breakfast was not on the table today. That was fine. He could have...tea. He probably had tea, right? Thomas didn't think he had honey or lemon, but that was fine. 

He was fine.

He took a moment to check the thermostat as he made his way downstairs, carefully. Huh. Same temperature as always. But then why was he suddenly so hot, God he was so hot, he could feel the sweat running down the length of his spine-

He ignored it.

It took a decent amount of searching, but Thomas did, in fact, have an ancient box of Lipton stashed in the very back of his cabinets. He threw a mug of water into his microwave, resting his head on the blessedly cool door of his fridge while he waited for the water to boil.

It was fine. He, Joan and Talyn didn't have any strenuous plans that day. A movie, some food, hanging out and playing video games. Sure, the sound of the beeping microwave felt like needles in his brain, the thought of food made his internal organs revolt, and the last thing Thomas wanted to do was stay up to all hours playing video games, but that wasn't important. He had made a commitment, and he was going to keep it.

He sat with his cup of tea until it had become cold and undrinkable, staring into the middle distance and wondering what he could possibly wear that could accommodate his wildly fluctuating internal temperature. When he could put it off no longer, he got to his feet, fully planning on walking back up the stairs to get dressed and go about his day.

Thomas had just a moment to feel weightless, the room spinning around him before someone’s arms slid under his, supporting his weight easily and keeping him upright.

“Easy, Thomas.”

“Wha…” Thomas's head felt so heavy, and the shoulder he was leaning on was covered in something soft and knitted, plush and warm on his face. It made it really hard to remember why he felt he should be worried about this strange person being in his apartment. “Who’s…”

“It’s alright, Thomas, it's just me.” The voice was deep and familiar, even though Thomas's sluggish brain was having trouble placing it. “Remember me?”

Thomas looked up through his bangs. It was one of his sides, and wasn't that a thought he was ill prepared to deal with right now. It wasn't the hyperactive swashbuckler, or the snarky streetfighter. It was the one who kind of reminded Thomas of his dad, right down to the soft knitted sweater and the sharp, but kind smile.

What was he supposed to be again?

“You...you’re my self presentation.”

The side’s smile grew. “Nope.” he said, and his voice was teasing as he readjusted Thomas so that he was standing upright. “Close though.”

“Sex orientation?”

“Getting further away. _Way_ further away.” The side placed a hand on the back of Thomas's neck, a warm and heavy weight that seemed almost enough to make his knees buckle. “Why don't you just call me Janus from now on? Much less of a mouthful.” 

“Why _Janus_?”

“Because it's my name.” The hand on Thomas's neck tightened its grip, leaning Thomas back so his side - Janus - could place his other hand on Thomas's forehead. “Yikes. You could fry an egg on your face right now. Well, someone-not-you could, at least.” 

Thomas tried to get offended at the dig at his lack of cooking skills, but he was just too tired to care. 

“Come on, back to bed with you.” Janus said, throwing Thomas's arm around his shoulders and starting to drag him towards the stairs. Thomas had a moment to be thankful that he was going to get up the stairs without breaking his neck on a fall before Janus’s words made their way through the fog in his head.

“Can’t. Gotta get ready-”

“Oh, I don't think so. You, my friend, are going back to bed, right now.” Thomas whined, half at Janus and half at his own head, and wow, that was a bad idea, who let him do that? “Let’s go.”

“But...I have so much to do.” Thomas protested, nearly tripping over the final step. Janus caught his weight and righted him before he had even realized he was falling. “I have to meet Joan and Talyn at-”

“You are not leaving this house unless you’re going to the doctor, Thomas. You’re burning up, and you can barely stand on your own right now.”

“But-”

“Nothing is happening today that cannot be rescheduled, Thomas.” Janus said, and he didn't even sound winded as he ignored Thomas's feeble attempts to escape him.“You, Joan, and Talyn can go see that movie another time, and I doubt you could handle something with that many explosions at this moment anyway. And you can go check out that new take out place at the mall anytime. The video games you wanted to play will still be here when you’re better, I promise.”

“You...know what I'm doing today?”

“Why is that so surprising? It's not like I'm a part of you or anything.” Janus had finally managed to get Thomas back to his bed, pushing him down to sit on the edge of the mattress. Thomas, not having much of a choice in the matter, let him. “And you’re not doing any of that today. You need to call them and cancel, you’re in no condition to go anywhere.”

“But…” Thomas's stomach rolled, and only about half of it was due to nausea. “They’ll both be upset, me cancelling at the last minute-”

“Joan and Talyn are your friends, and they will be even more upset if you make yourself worse or get hurt doing things today. Won't they?”

“I...I guess...”

“I know it's hard for you to think this,” Janus said, sitting on the bed beside Thomas, letting him lean his head back on Janus’s shoulder, “But you’re allowed to be a priority, Thomas. And you need to take better care of yourself. It's not like we can replace you. You’re the only you we’ve got.”

Thomas sighed heavily, rubbing his face in Janus’s sweater. Janus chuckled, and his hand started carding through Thomas's hair, his thumb occasionally rubbing at Thomas’s temple and doing _wonders_ for his pounding headache. 

Janus smelled really comforting, Thomas thought absently as he relaxed further. Like...like when you wake up one morning in April and you take a deep breath of warm air and realize that _winter is over_ , even though you can't see any green yet. You just _know_.

“Thomas.”

“Hmm?”

“You still have to call your friends.”

“Hmph.”

“Eloquent.” Janus said dryly. “Do you need Instinct and Hero to help you make the call? Instinct can give you a boost of motivation and Hero can help you think of what to say…?”

Thomas groaned, but at the same time, the thought of having his other two sides there didn't seem so bad. “I will...in a few minutes.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Thomas.” Janus shifted minutely under Thomas, and Thomas found himself gripping onto his sweater so hard his fingers stretched it.

“Don't go yet.” he said, feeling small and a little lost. “Stay with me?”

“Not like I can do much else, Thomas. I live in your head.” Janus said, stilling once more. “But alright. I’ll stay out here as long as you want me to.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, Thomas.” 

The last thing Thomas heard before he fell asleep was a sharp exhale of breath, followed by a soft, barely audible, “Huh. Feels good to be able to say that to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter goes up in two days. Hero has something he really wants Thomas to know.


	2. Green

Thomas sighed heavily as he unlocked his front door. He had just finished a long, meaningless, unproductive day at work, mostly consisting of screwing around on the internet, barely paying attention in meetings, and answering emails only sporadically. 

And he felt bad about it.

He moped around his apartment for a bit, changing out of his work clothes into sweats and a soft t-shirt, flicking through apps on his phone until his stomach growled. He wandered into his kitchen, pulling a container of lo mein out of the fridge and tossing it into the microwave. While it spun dejectedly, he went back to the couch, turning on the TV and switching to Netflix. 

“Long day?”

“WHAT THE-” Thomas jumped, reflexively throwing one of his couch pillows at Janus, who raised his eyebrows as the pillow passed right through him. “Warn me before you just show up!”

“Sorry.” Janus said, although he didn't really look that sorry, throwing the pillow back on the couch. Thomas stared at it, baffled.

“How does that work?” Thomas asked. “The pillow went through you, but then you could pick it up?” A half delirious memory resurfaced. “And last weekend, you helped me get back to bed?”

“Careful, Thomas, you’ll pull a muscle.” Janus said, a smile softening the bite of his jab. “Your guess is as good as mine. It's not like I have tons of experience being manifested like this. This is all new for us as well.” He shrugged. “I suspect it was because you didn't actually want to hit me, despite your cheery and delightful mood right now.” 

“Yeah.” Thomas said as the microwave started to beep insistently. He felt Janus's eyes on him as he went into the kitchen, taking the now warm noodles out of the microwave.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Janus asked gently, following him into the kitchen. Thomas grimaced, stirring his noodles to eliminate any cold spots.

“I had kind of a crummy day at work.” he said at last.

“Working in advertising was not fast-paced and fulfilling? I'm _shocked_.” Janus drawled, his voice so dry even Thomas couldn't help but crack a smile. 

“Yeah, I just kinda had...no motivation, no ideas, no anything. I felt...I _feel_ bad that I didn’t really get anything worthwhile done but I couldn't seem to get myself working.”

“I see.”

Thomas looked over at Janus, who seemed to be looking right through Thomas with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking that maybe you should talk to Instinct and Hero about your...lack of motivation. They might give you a clearer sense of what is going on in your head.”

The ‘because you certainly don’t know’ hung in the air, unspoken but _definitely_ heard.

“O...Kay? Feel free to call them?”

Janus shook his head. “You do it.”

“Me?”

“Yes. It’s a useful skill for you to have.”

Thomas didn't really know what to say to that, so he just put his dinner aside. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Take a deep breath. Clear your mind.” Janus’s smile turned wicked. “That should be a piece of cake for you.”

“Hey!”

“Relax, I'm kidding.” Janus said. “Now just close your eyes. Concentrate on Instinct, either on an image of him in your mind’s eye or the feelings that you associated with him. Then just call him. He’ll answer.”

Feelings he associated with him?

“But I…” _Barely know him_ , he wanted to say, but that wasn't exactly true, was it? If Instinct had always been a part of him, then he did know him. He was…

He was his confidence, his courage, his...bravery. The part of him that wanted to fight, for what he believed in, for what was right.

He let those feelings fill his entire head, his chest, every part of him, and opened his mouth.

“Instinct?”

There was a whoosh of sensation in Thomas's stomach, like the moment on a roller coaster just before you start going down the first peak. He blinked, and suddenly Instinct was there, standing in Thomas's living room with a surprised look on his face.

“Well done, Thomas.” Janus said, proud. Instinct staggered in place, his eyes still wide.

“ _Whoa_.”

“You okay?” Thomas asked, concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“Yeah, no, I’m okay, it's just...whoa, that was _weird_ . Way harder than when Janus does it.” Instinct said, collapsing onto the couch, and Thomas tried to swallow all the questions he had about how _that_ was possible. “Little lightheaded now, _yikes_.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, totally fine. I'll get used to it.”

“How come I didn't need to do all this to summon you?” Thomas asked Janus.

“Technically you do, but...oh, how do I explain this…” He took a seat next to Instinct.“The first time, you opened the door to the mindscape and I was able to come through. All the times since then were just me, going through that door again.”

“So...I haven’t been summoning you these past couple times?” Thomas asked, curious. “You’ve just been showing up?”

“More or less. Being your self-preservation means I have a direct line to your subconscious. I hear it, and I can interpret it. Both times before, you wanted someone with you, and because I am the closest to you, I came.” he tilted his head, looking pensive. “Does that make you uncomfortable? I can ignore it in the future.”

“You can?”

“Yes, but…” Janus looked a little uncomfortable, even as his sprawl on the couch stayed deceptively relaxed. “It won't be easy. Before you opened the door, I had no choice but to ignore those kinds of thoughts, because there was nothing I could do from there. Now that the door is already open…” He shrugged again, but this one looked decidedly more forced. “But of course I will stop if that is what you want, Thomas. Just say the word.”

“I…” Thomas shrugged, ignoring the warm curl of something in his chest at the thought that Janus wanted to...that he couldn't help but come to him when he wanted company. “It's okay. I don't mind it. I trust you.”

Now, Creativity. That one was easy enough. Thomas filled his head with his most fantastical thoughts, and confidently said, “Hero?”

Nothing happened.

“What happened?” Thomas asked, after giving Hero a minute to appear. “What did I do wrong? Is he ignoring me?”

“Fat chance of that.” Instinct muttered. Janus leveled a sharp look at Instinct before addressing Thomas.

“Perhaps he didn't know you were calling him. What were you thinking of?”

“I dunno...magic? Dragons and unicorns? That kind of thing.”

There was a moment of silence before Instinct started cackling. “Oh, MAN. No wonder he didn't show.”

“What? What did I do?”

“Your idea of what creativity represents, or at least the kind of creativity that _Hero_ represents, is a little…” Janus paused, picking up one of the couch pillows and smacking Instinct in the face with it, muffling his snickers. “Different from what Hero is actually like.”

“Think less Fairytale Prince and more Space Pirate.” Instinct added, throwing the pillow back on the couch. “Hero is all about fantasy that's grounded in reality, even when that reality is bent and warped way out of proportion.” He smirked. “You’re better off thinking of pirates and detectives and superheroes before you think of that other stuff.”

“Try again.”

“Maybe you should just call him.” Thomas said, but Janus was already shaking his head.

“Trust me, Thomas. He’ll come. Try again.”

Trying not to blush at the sheer amount of faith that Janus put in him, he closed his eyes again. He imagined adventures on the high seas, epic operas played out on a galactic scale, unbridled enthusiasm that sunk into every crevice and made him feel like he could do anything.

He breathed out.

“Hero?”

“Tomma-Llama-Ding-Dong!” Hero crowed as he appeared. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?”

“Hey, Hero!” Thomas began, only to pause. Something seemed off with him, a manic little gleam in his eyes that Thomas didn't remember being there before. “Hero, are you okay?”

“‘Course I am, Tommy-gun. Why wouldn't I be?”

“You just seem…” Thomas searched for the word to describe the feeling that was taking root in his chest, but couldn't come up with anything that came close, so he switched to something he could quantify. “Twitchier, than you were last time.”

“I just...have a lot of ideas...in my head right now.” He said, a toothy smile stretching his face. “Yup, that’s it! Lots of bats in the belfry if you know what I mean.” He tapped his head, a spark of something mad entering his eyes. “How does gravity work at the bottom of the ocean? Like, if you put a jellyfish in a sealed tank of water and launched it into space, would it know that anything was different?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, just a thought that occurred to me.” Hero sat at the table, facing into Thomas's kitchen. “Part of being your Creativity. Ideas just sort of...come to me.”

“Well, good.” Thomas said, his eyes darting between all three of his sides, feeling vindicated when he saw Instinct and Janus giving Hero concerned looks as well. “Honestly with the way things have been going at work, I could use a few good ideas, so I’m glad that-”

“Oh, you don't say, wow, that’s really interesting.” Hero said, his voice too loud and too harsh. “Hey, did you know that there’s a species of fish that weighs over two tons that is so dumb its techinically classified as plankton?”

“You okay, Hero?” Instinct asked. Hero nodded vigorously, his hands beating a quick staccato on the table.

“Course I am!” Hero said. Instinct looked like he was having a hard time believing him, but didn't do anything but fix Hero with a piercing stare. 

“Do you guys wanna stick around for a movie or something?” Thomas asked, when the silence stretched on a little too long. He hunted around in his cabinets for a bag of microwave popcorn, until a prickling sensation in the back of his neck made him turn around.

Janus was looking directly at Thomas, his eyes darting to Hero once he had Thomas’s attention. Hero’s face was starkly white, and he was making frantic hand movements at Instinct, who was making them right back, not yet aware that Thomas had turned around. Once Hero noticed where Janus’s attention was, he whirled around, plastering a blinding, wide, clearly fake smile across his face.

“Yeah, we can totally stay for a movie, Tommy Pastrami!” he said, and his voice had an almost desperate cheeriness to it that made Thomas's breath catch. “Say, have you ever thought about what might happen if you had a water balloon fight, but instead of water, the balloons were filled with _jello_? It’d be super simple too, you just make the jello and fill the balloons before it sets and then-”

“Okay, what’s up?” Thomas asked, his hands on his hips as he stared at all of his sides. “You’re all being weird.”

“No, I'm not. This is just how I am.” Hero said, shifting nervously.

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Instinct said suddenly, overly dramatic and with a shit-eating grin on his face, looking at his completely empty wrist, “I really gotta get started on that thing!”

“What thing?” Thomas asked, bewildered while Hero growled lowly, glaring at Instinct so hard Thomas was surprised he didn't just catch fire.

“You know, the thing!” Instinct said, elbowing Janus gently. “Janus, you remember the thing?” he asked pointedly.

“...Oh, of course.” Janus said at last, clearly fighting a smile. “We should get on that. Have a lovely evening, boys.” he said, waving cheekily as he and Instinct vanished. 

“What was _that_ about?”

“Nothing. Janus and Instinct are just being weird. Say, have you ever wondered if-”

“No, hang on, don't...don't do that.” Thomas dragged a chair next to Hero. “Look, you’ve clearly got something going on, Hero. Talk to me.”

“I am talking to you?”

“No you’re...deflecting, and it's honestly freaking me out a little. What’s wrong?” He put a hand on Hero’s shoulder. “Let me help you.”

Hero met his eyes for a second before his gaze darted away, and Thomas was suddenly struck by how young he looked. Instinct looked almost identical to Thomas as far as age went, and Janus looked like how Thomas imagined himself in a few years, but Hero...Hero looked so _young_. Even more so now with his hands in his lap, looking like the very picture of Thomas when he knew he was in trouble.

“I’m the reason you had a shit day at work.” Hero said at last. “I was supposed to give you ideas, and then Instinct was gonna help motivate you to do them, but…”

“But?”

“I don't...I didn't have any work ideas for you. At all.” He said, his voice thick. “I have a million other ideas, but I had nothing for work. I’m _sorry_.” Thomas looked up, because it sounded like…

Yeah, those were definitely the beginnings of _tears_ in Hero’s eyes. 

“Wha...it’s okay, Hero-”

“It’s not, though. I’m your creativity. I'm the ideas guy. I’m supposed to be the one you can count on to have ideas when you need them but…” He scrubbed at his eyes, and Thomas's heart ached in his chest. “It's _hard_ . It's really hard, cause I don't want to screw this up. You’re counting on me, and I can't even get started on the ideas cause I just _know_ I'm gonna mess them up and then you’re gonna be so disappointed in me and it's going to be so much worse because now you _know_ me and I can’t handle that, I can't let you down, so I don't even _try_ , and I'm sorry-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Hero, _breathe_.” Thomas said, alarmed. “Do you guys need to breathe? Nevermind, that doesn't matter, do it anyway.” Without stopping to think about it too hard, he pulled Hero into an embrace, his arms tight around him. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” Hero said, stiff in Thomas's arms. “I’m really, _really_ sorry. I know you only just met us but...” Hero sniffed, burying his face in Thomas's shoulder. “It's different for us. It's different for _me_.”

“How?”

“...I might be _the_ Hero, but you’re _my_ hero, Thomas.” He hesitated, and then Hero’s arms were around Thomas too. “And I care about your opinion so, _so_ much.”

“Aw, Hero…” He squeezed the creative side tighter. “My opinion of you isn't going to change because of one unproductive day at work. You’ll bounce back with new, even better ideas before you know it. I know you will.” 

They stayed that way, Thomas refusing to let go of Hero until Hero pulled away. He chose to not say anything about the redness of Hero’s eyes, just gripped his shoulder. “Feel better?”

Hero nodded. “Thanks, Thomas. This was...was nice.”

“No problem.” Thomas said, smiling. “How do you usually bounce back when this happens?”

“Instinct and I usually go on adventures in your imagination, or I do...I guess you’d call them experiments? I play around with the settings in your imagination to see how things work?”

“Oh, yeah?” Thomas encouraged. “Does that mean you’re going to try that jellyfish experiment later?”

“I mean, probably, but first I'd have to work on the jellyfish. Cause it can't talk at the moment, or think at all really. So first I have to make a jellyfish capable of semi-intelligent thought, and then give it a way to communicate, because again, it's a jellyfish, it's not like it can _talk_. Then when you have a jellyfish that can think and communicate, now the question becomes how do I make a tank that can hold a jellyfish in the cold vacuum of space...” 

Thomas and Hero talked all night, jumping from jellyfish experiments to tales of pirate adventures, and as Thomas watched Hero dramatically reenact some past fight for his entertainment, he smiled. Hero noticed, trailing off in the middle of his sentence.

“What?”

_I'm glad I could help you._

_I'm glad Janus and Instinct gave me this time with you._

_I'm glad you’re_ **_you_ ** _._

“Nothing.” Thomas said, settling more comfortably into his couch. “Keep going. Tell me more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in two days. Instinct helps Thomas with something that's been bothering him.


	3. Purple

In the solitude of his own apartment, Thomas allowed himself to pout as he threw the container of Thai noodle leftovers into the trash. Those leftovers were  _ supposed _ to be that night's dinner but were rapidly becoming the basis for a middle school science experiment on fungi, much to Thomas’s disappointment.

“Hey.”

“AHHH!” Thomas flailed, clutching at his now racing heart. “I am going to put BELLS on all of you! Stop sneaking up on me like that!”

“If you paid attention to your own thoughts more, you would know when we were coming.” Instinct said, smirking from his seat on the countertop next to the sink. Thomas glared at him.

“Darnit, Instinct, I just finished washing those!”

“They’re still clean. I'm not really here, Sanders, remember?”

“...right.” Thomas muttered, because that was still confusing, and his head hurt every time he tried to think about it. He looked over at Instinct again, and his eyes widened. “Whoa, what happened to your face?”

“What?” Instinct looked bewildered, grabbing at Thomas's clean dishes for a spoon. “Oh. Yeah, that’ll go away in a few days, no big.” he said nonchalantly, poking at the skin around his bruised eye. “Damn, that’s a nice one.”

“How did you get that?”

“Hero and I did some adventuring in your imagination.” He said, tossing the spoon back into the dishrack with a clatter. “I’d tell you all about it, but I’m sure you’ll end up getting the sparknotes version in your dreams later tonight, and I'd hate to spoil that for you.”

“You guys can get  _ hurt  _ in my imagination?”

“Yeah. Hero likes his adventures on hard-slash-incredibly-realistic mode. Injuries, danger, realistic physics, the whole nine yards. Makes it more fun. And I like a challenge.” He jumped down from the counter, now leaning against it. “Speaking of challenges, when are  _ you  _ going to learn to cook?”

Thomas blinked. “Non-sequitur, much?” he asked, as he stretched out wiping the inside of his fridge for as long as possible.

“You were the one who was just thinking that you were so sick of having takeout and leftovers all the time.” Instinct said with a roll of his eyes. “Wouldn’t be a problem if you learned how to make something other than ramen and pizza rolls.”

“I’m going to learn how to cook…” Thomas said, closing his now pathetically empty fridge. “Sometime.”

“Exactly! That's why I'm here!”

“Huh?”

“Yup! Sometime has just become now-time.” Instinct said, grinning crookedly. “You’re making dinner tonight, kid.”

“What?” Thomas said, nerves immediately rising in his chest. “I don't know about that…”

“Oh come on, Thomas. You’ve got nothing to lose! You’re not making this for anyone but yourself. No one is here to judge you, and even if they were, no one expects you to be Mario Batali on the first night!”

“You watch the Food Network?” Thomas asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I watch what you watch when you’re anxious, and your dentist office plays the food network constantly, and inevitably, I'm always pulled there to remind you that your dentist is not, in fact, Orin Scrivello.” At Thomas's blank look, Instinct sighed heavily. “He’s the dentist from Little Shop of Horrors.”

Thomas turned red, spluttering, “I do NOT think that-”

“Yeah you do.” Instinct said. “Come on Thomas. I’m not gonna steer you wrong. We’re gonna find you a nice, easy recipe that even  _ you  _ can’t fuck up, and you’re gonna do great.” He leaned on the fridge door, holding his hand out to Thomas. “Trust me.”

“...okay.” Thomas said, taking his hand. “Yeah, okay. Let's do it!”

“That’s the spirit!” Instinct said, clapping a hand on Thomas's back and steering him towards the couch. “Come on, I have an idea for what you should look up.”

* * *

“How do you even  _ pronounce  _ that?” Thomas asked, staring at the recipe on his computer.

“Don't psych yourself out just because you can't pronounce Italian. Look at the recipe. It's pasta, pepper and cheese, what's not to like? And it's got like, six ingredients, one of which is  _ pasta _ , which you already know how to make. An idiot couldn’t mess this up.”

“But...but I don't have any of these ingredients.”

“Excuses. Getting the ingredients will take twenty minutes, tops.” Instinct hoisted himself onto the table. “Come on. What's really bugging you?”

“I just…”

“Hey.” Instinct said, his eyes sympathetic. “I can tell when you’re getting anxious. Talk to me.”

Thomas sighed, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. “I just don't want to mess things up.”

“You won’t mess anything up-” Instinct began, but Thomas steam rolled right over him, already too worked up.

“But how can you know that? How can you be  _ sure _ ?” he put his face in his hands. “God this is such a stupid thing to get worked up about…”

“I know because I know  _ you _ , Thomas.” Instinct said, his voice losing some of its characteristic snark, becoming more gentle. “You’re smart, even if you act like an idiot more often than not. Having a few things that you can cook for yourself is going to make you feel better, less like you’re drowning and no one is throwing you a line.” 

Thomas swallowed past the lump that was suddenly in his throat. 

“Everything is gonna be fine. I’ll be with you the entire time.” Instinct continued. Thomas looked up at him.

“Really?”

“Of course. My whole job is to help you take chances, to give you confidence and courage when you need it, and to make sure your dumb ass doesn't get in trouble. I've always been doing that for you, you just didn't know it.”

“...What’s it like?” Thomas asked quietly. “Being a side? How does it all work?”

Instinct buzzed his lips, looking a little sheepish. “I don't really know, you’re going to have to talk to Janus about that stuff, he's been around the longest.”

“How long?”

“Janus was your first side to manifest, not long after you were born, according to him. Hero and I came around way later.” He looked away. “Do you remember the day you met Joan?”

A faint memory from Thomas's childhood floated to the forefront of his mind, of a tiny Joan being picked on by an older kid, and how Thomas, barely bigger than Joan, had stepped in and made the bully leave them alone.

“Yeah?”

“That was the day I manifested. When you stood up for them, even though you were scared. When you swore to yourself that you were going to help people, even when you were afraid, that was the day I became a part of you.” Thomas couldn’t speak. “All I know, all I’ve ever known, is that you are important to me, Thomas. You’re probably the most important person in our lives, and you didn't even know we were  _ there _ .”

Thomas couldn't help but feel a little guilty at that. “Sorry-”

“No I didn't mean it like that, god, Thomas, don't  _ apologize _ . We never expected to be able to talk with you. It's amazing, you’re amazing.”

“I am?”

“I'm just saying that...you don't know how badly we wanted this, but we also never dreamed that it would be a possibility. And if you can make something like that, like actually getting to talk to you, more than a possibility but a thing we can do whenever we want?” He smirked. “Then I'm more than confident that you can cook yourself dinner.” 

It seemed a little ridiculous to Thomas, that he was getting a pep talk about making dinner from a personified facet of his personality that looked like he stepped out of an arcade game about street fighting. But at the same time, it felt so natural, like of course he should listen to Instinct, who had a black eye and knuckles bound with purple tape and who seemed allergic to sitting on a chair, he…

He trusted him.

“...You’re right. I'm gonna head to the store.” Thomas said, and his shaky smile was rewarded with a broad, slightly crooked grin.

“This is gonna be great, Thomas. Trust me.”

* * *

“So what do I do now?” Thomas asked, looking into the bowl full of cheese that he had just poured olive oil into.

“According to the directions, now you mix it until it looks like a paste.” Instinct said, reading off of Thomas's laptop. “It says it might take a bit of elbow grease, so get crackin.”

“And  _ this  _ is supposed to cover all of  _ that _ ?” Thomas asked, looking into the pot of boiling pasta. “How?”

“Well once you’ve got your paste, apparently you take the pasta water and mix it in with that, and BOOM, you’ve got sauce.” he said, scrolling down the webpage with interest. “It's kind of cool, there's a little blurb here about how the starch in the pasta water is actually going to help the oil in the sauce to mix with the water. That’s neat.” He glanced over at the stove. “You should check the pasta, make sure it's not overcooked.”

“How do I check the pasta?”

“Fish out one of the noodles and bite down. If it's still crunchy, it's not done yet.” Instinct said, speaking slowly and clearly like he would to a child.

“Fish it out of  _ boiling water _ ?”

“With a  _ spoon, _ obviously.” Instinct said, rolling his eyes. 

Thomas chose to ignore the implied ‘dumbass’ in Instinct's voice, testing one of the noodles and finding it a little too chewy. “Not ready yet.”

“See? You’re better at this than you think.” Thomas blushed at the compliment, which Instinct thankfully didn't comment on. “Ready to start adding the water?”

“Yep!” 

Once the noodles were done and the sauce was ready, Thomas pulled the noodles from the pot, dumping them unceremoniously into the bowl. “Now what?”

“Now mix it all up. The recipe says that you need to really mix it hard.”

“So much  _ mixing _ .” Thomas said, only half complaining as he got to work. 

“Oh, don't be such a baby.” Instinct said, closing Thomas's laptop and moving it off the table. “A little effort makes it taste better.”

“How would you know?”

“Just keep mixing, Sanders.”

Thomas had to admit, by the time Instinct determined that he had done enough mixing, the mass of noodles in the bowl looked pretty good, and smelled even better. His stomach rumbled, loud enough for Instinct to hear and laugh. 

“Well, don't let it get cold. Dish some up!”

Instinct’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Thomas could feel it bubbling in his own chest as he scooped out a bowl of the noodles, glancing over for one last encouraging look before he grabbed a fork and dug in.

It was  _ delicious _ .

“Oh my god.” Thomas said, unconcerned that he spoke through a mouthful of pasta. “Oh my  _ god _ .”

“Good?”

“SO good!” Thomas said, swallowing and immediately going back for more. “Holy crap, I can't believe I made this!” He reached out to Instinct, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bowl, handing him a plate. “You’ve got to try some!”

“Well, I was very instrumental in its creation, so don't mind if I do.” Instinct said, smirking as he got himself a portion as well. “Not bad, Sanders.” he said, tasting a smear of the sauce from the side of the bowl.

“Hey, how come  _ he  _ gets to eat, Tommy Salami?” 

Thomas turned to see Hero and Janus standing in his living room, an overexaggerated pout on Hero’s face and an indulgent smile on Janus’s.

“‘ _ He _ ’ was the only one who was helping, you tire fire.” Instinct said, slurping up some noodles. 

“Feel free to grab some, too.” Thomas said, aiming a light kick at Instinct’s ankle, ignoring the side’s grin when his foot passed right through Instinct’s leg. “Seriously guys, help yourselves.”

“I’m impressed, Thomas.” Janus said as he made a bowl for himself and Remus, taking a seat next to Thomas at the table. 

“Yep, he did it all on his own.” Instinct said proudly, grinning at Thomas as he perched backwards on a chair. “Didn't have to boost him or anything.”

“Boost me?”

“It's just something I can do, one of my ‘side powers’, if you want to call it that.” Instinct held up his hand, a faintly purple glow starting to emanate in the space just around his hand. “Basically it's me giving you a shot of confidence and adrenaline when you really need it.”

“That's really cool. How come you don't do that all the time?”

“Short answer? It's  _ exhausting _ . Long answer? I can't do it to you too much or it loses its potency.” 

“Yeah, too much of any of us can be...not good.” Hero said, sheepish. “Remember the Gallagher Incident?”

Thomas nearly choked.

“That was  _ you _ ?!” Thomas said, shocked. “Do you have any idea how much  _ trouble  _ I got in for that?”

“Yes, obviously.” Hero said, exaggeratedly licking the bottom of his bowl. “Worth it, though.” he said, wistfully. Instinct smacked him gently in the back of his head as he went to get more food.

Something pinged inside Thomas's head, and he looked around at all of his sides, eating the food he had made.

“Wait, are you guys actually eating this? Do I need to feed you guys? How have you survived if I haven't been feeding you?” Thomas asked, his words getting faster with each question.

“Calm down, Thomas.” Janus said with a smile. “We’re aspects of your personality, not Tamagotchis. You don't have to feed us.”

“We’re imaginary, you dumbass, we can't eat real food.”

“But you…” 

“When you wake up tomorrow morning, our portions will be in your fridge, ready for you to eat later this week.” Janus said patiently, twirling pasta around his fork. 

“That doesn't make any sense!”

“Don't try to think about it too hard, Sanders, you’ll just give yourself a headache.” Instinct said, ruffling Thomas's hair affectionately. Thomas batted his hand away, shoving at his shoulder for good measure.

“See if I ever invite you out for dinner again.”

“You will.” Instinct said confidently. “You like us too much not to.”

Thomas hid his grin by stuffing more pasta into his mouth. 

He kinda did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipe that Instinct suggests is cacio e pepe, a very good dish for beginning cooks.
> 
> Next episode in two days. Thomas meets someone new.


End file.
